Sturbridge Tales
by MollyAtwell
Summary: I have this continuing argument with my friend Jennifer that the only reason Lost in Austen lasted over an hour was that Amanda Price made Caroline Bingley look like an intellectual. This was a prank. Lizzie, in the future, amused by lights, it was just Jennifer mocking me and the movie.
1. Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Bennet in possession of electricity will go absolutely mental with delight and horror. Though when the discovery of this truth first came upon me all I saw was a a young, deranged women going insane over my desk lamp. At first this didn't bother me all that much, I work at a living history museum in Sturbridge, Massachusetts and some of the actors get a little to attached to their roles. Auditions were next week, perhaps she had snuck in to the employee's building to take a look at the costumes or practice or make a horrible, but in her mind excellent, first impression.

"Miss, guests aren't allowed in here." Maybe she was lost, maybe this would scare her into sanity.

"This is quite amazing, what do you call it?" She spoke with a extremely English accent and continued staring at my lamp and tugging at the pull chain.

"A lamp, I'm sorry but auditions are not until Saturday, you'll have to come back then." I tried to keep calm, after a year working here I have learned that actor and lunatic are synonyms.

"A lamp." She grinned "And where am I? I seem to have traveled and your name, I must have your name."

"You are in Sturbridge, Massachusetts in America and my name is Amelia Towne." I gave her my characters name, it's best not to have lunatics knowing your name.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Towne," She executed a perfect curtsey, most girls took a day to learn how to curtsey properly. Lunatic or no we might need her. "My name is Elizabeth Bennet, but you may call me Lizzie."

"Oh," It all made sense now I have this continuing argument with my friend Jennifer that the only reason Lost in Austen lasted over an hour was that Amanda Price made Caroline Bingley look like an intellectual. This was a prank. Lizzie, in the future, amused by lights, it was just Jennifer mocking me and the movie. "Jennifer put you up to this, didn't she?"

"What on Earth is a Jennifer?" The actress asked 'shocked' by the 'modern name'

"Okay, awesome, this has been great, but I don't want you to get in trouble so you should probably go home."

"Of course." She curtseyed and turned to leave, into the cupboard that we stored the winter cloaks in.

"Wrong book, Miss Bennet or are you Miss Pevensie now?" At this point I was pretty much done with anything and everything this woman had to say, "The door is over here."

"That may be, but this is the door I entered from."

"Okay, I really don't know what your playing at anymore," She opened the closet, "There is a solid wall behind that and office behind the wall." She stepped in a shoved the cloaks aside. "Look, please just..." She opened the back of the closet. She opened the back of the closet and there was no wall, there were stacks of hay and fading sunlight and English mist.

"What the fuck!" Not the most ingenious thing to say in 1813, Lizzie stared at me with a look like I had stolen her cat and shot Charlotte Lucas. I apologized for my 'foul tongue' and Lizzie dragged me out of what was apparently a barn towards Longbourne, Longbourne, and the only thought in my mind was that she looked much more like Keira Knightley than Jennifer Ehle. Upon entering Longbourne you could here Lydia and Kitty Bennet, two completely fictional characters, screaming over a bonnet, Mrs. Bennet whining to her husband, Mary playing piano extremely poorly. Lizzie pushed me up the stairs and into her room and locked the door surprising the hell out of a young blonde sitting by the window who could have only been Jane Bennet.

"Jane!" Lizzie let out a hushed shriek, "I need to use the room, please go down stairs, please, go, go, go." After literally shoving her sister down the stairs Lizzie turned to me, "Are you insane?"

"Me! Insane! You go gallivanting around Sturbridge pretending it's regency England and I am insane!"

"Well to me it appears that you go gallivanting around Hertfordshire pretending it's America and swear like sailor in my father's barn." There are tears in her eyes, she's just as scared as me, "And what do you mean regency England?"

"It's what this time period is called, somewhere between 1810 and 1820."

"And what time period are you from if not this one?"

"I don't know they're not named until after they're over, I'm from 2013." She reached out and took my hand.

"I don't think either of us are insane, Amelia."


	2. Chapter 2

"Is that what they wear in 2013?" She looked down at my rough, plaid, cotton dress, leather boots and white handkerchief.

"Oh, no, you see I work at a living history museum and we wear costumes from that period in time, which in my case is the 1830s." I loved my job I remember I got really sad when I was a kid that most of things that I wanted required a time machine and Sturbridge let me go to a much more interesting time.

"Then they are still ahead of our time, you can borrow one of Jane's or my dresses, until we figure this out." She sat down next to me on her and Jane's bed, I instantly stood up and went towards her closet, I couldn't be to near her if I was it might all go away and I so want this to be real.

"These are amazing." I breathed, I'm not going to lie period dresses are my drugs, I'm not ashamed of this, and to have a real one not just some reproduction. The one I picked out was classic 1812, muslin, trimmed with lace, long sleeves of clear muslin, and a shirt of the same, trimmed with lace. The fact that I know this on the list of reasons why I am perpetually single.

"They're only what we could make, there are much finer elsewhere," She turned away as I put on the dress, "We must introduce you to Mamma and Papa if you're to stay here, I will say you are a friend..."

"That you met in London." I added, I would do many things in England going to small town Hertfordshire is not among them.

"While visiting my aunt and uncle. Very good Amelia, you should know Mamma and Papa are having a small argument, you see we have a new neighbor and Papa refuses to visit him and introduce the family which Mamma believes has doomed me and my sisters to being spinsters."

"For every young man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife." I smile, echoing Jennifer Ehle's sarcastic tone.

"My mother's thoughts exactly." Lizzie laughed and grabbed my hand, "Let's go introduce you, Papa will adore you as I do." Mr. Bennet exited the door to the, well to whatever room Lizzie was pulling me towards as we were about to enter it.

"Papa this is Amelia Towne, a friend I met in London, she's in Hertfordshire a while may she please stay here for her trip?"

"Of course, my dear. Why don't you and Miss Towne come with me to the study, your mother is absolutely in raptures over the my announcement." He grinned like the cat that got the canary

"You did introduce us, you really shouldn't mock Mamma so." Lizzie laughed and turned to me, "One day he will go too far and her head will explode."  
"We shouldn't bother Miss Towne with such trivial nonsense, how do you find Longbourne Miss Towne?"

"Very lovely, sir." I smiled, slightly worried about my accent

"Then you haven't been here long. I was unaware that my Lizzie had a friend in America, you met in London you say?"

"Yes sir, Lizzie was visiting with her aunt and uncle Gar-" She hadn't told me their surname, shit, "Graciously, I happened to be in London at the time and we have been corresponding ever since." Nice save

"Where are you from Miss Towne?"

"Sturbridge, Massachusetts sir. It's about an hour's drive from Boston."

"And your father, what does he do?"

"My father is a gentleman and a justice of the peace, though he dabbles in politics. The money came from farming, my grandfather was forward thinking and invested in modern technologies that no one thought would be worth our time." He ate up the customary speech I gave visitors and my friends said that Sturbridge was dull.

"My kind of man, his name?" Mr. Bennet grinned up at me from his desk.

"Salem sir, Salem Towne."

"Excellent, there is the small matter of the beds, I suppose Jane could sleep with Mary and Miss Towne could take Jane's spot with you. I hope you have brought some formal clothes, Miss Towne, for there is a ball tomorrow fortnight and two gentleman of large fortune will be there I'm sure either would make an excellent souvenir of England." I like Mr. Bennet he was kind and funny and caustic, "May I call you by your Christian name Miss Towne?"

"Of course sir." Imagine that, living in a world where men had to ask before calling you by your first name. I was used to men calling you anything from babe to bitch the moment they saw you.

"Excellent, I'm Thomas." I knew it wasn't Claude.


	3. Chapter 3

At this point I have been here two weeks, a fortnight god I love that word, and tonight is the night! Tonight I see, with my own eyes, Mr. Darcy, he and Bingley were all Lydia and Kitty were talking about the entire ride to the ball and all I was thinking about. Not that I'm hating on Colin Firth, but I think he will look more like Matthew Macfadyen, though Firth did do a better job. I really hope that Bingley is a dapper ginger gentleman like in the 2005 movie with the hair twirl and everything. I had spent the day remaking one of Jane's old dresses into a style I had seen at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, a pale peach muslin with a daringly low neckline and brown embroidery.

Over the course of these weeks I have become fast friends with not only Lizzie, but Jane and Charlotte Lucas as well. Jane is just as angelic and shy as she is in the book, but I'm starting to dislike Austen's portrayal of Miss Lucas. She may be rather serious and practical, but she is by no means dull, she's intelligent and funny and she's simply knows and acknowledges the cards that society has dealt her. I suppose to Austen, Charlotte was just another secondary character, but now she's so much more and she deserve's so much more than Mr. Collins.

Charlotte, Lizzie and I were sitting out a dance when the doors opened just like in 2005, first came Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, then Bingley and Caroline and then him. He had Firth's face shape and stature and mouth, but his hair was straight and dark and his eyes were remarkably blue, definitely Macfadyen.

"Mamma was certain he would bring twelve ladies and seven gentleman, but here there are only five." Lizzie smiled, "Still two women with a better chance than any of us."

"Oh the women are only his sisters, the elder brunette is Louisa married to Mr. Hurst, the plump gentleman, the other is Miss Caroline Bingley." I explained, apparently knowing these kind of thing was normal because they both accepted it.

"And the other gentleman with the quizzical brow?" Lizzie, really Lizzie I could hug you right now

"Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, he's worth twice as much as Mr. Bingley and owns half of Derbyshire." With that the dance ended and Mrs. Bennet dragged her daughter's to meet Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy along with Charlotte and I.

"Mr. Bingley, I am Mrs. Bennet I believe my husband introduced me."

"A yes of course," The dapper ginger gentleman chortled, "Mr. Bennet came around nearly two weeks ago, though I thought he said you had five daughters."

"Oh yes these are mine, Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Catherine and Lydia" She separated Charlotte and I from the Bennets

"And these are my friends Charlotte Lucas and Amelia Towne," Lizzie introduced us knowing her mother wouldn't, "Miss Towne is currently staying with us"

"Good day, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley." I curtseyed as I had been taught for a year, indicated the elder man first.

"By Jove." Bingley smiled, "How would an American like yourself know of my friend before he is introduced?"

"Word travels fast in small towns." Darcy sized me up and his eyes landed on my chest, maybe the dress was too daring or maybe Mr. Darcy was a boob-man.

"The daughter of a brother can know anything she wishes about me." He smiled softly, my necklace, my father gave me and my sister and my mum necklaces with a blue slipper charm, it was an emblem of the protective influence Freemasons will have in the lives of the wives, widows and daughters of their brethren.

"Word had not spread you were a Freemason, Mr. Darcy." I had a hook in with Mr. Darcy, in the time of chivalry that this is he would be more inclined to listen to a Mason's daughter than any other woman.

"My family has been with the Lodge for generations and your father is, Miss Towne?"

"Yes, my father was the Grand Lecturer of Massachusetts for a time," Shut up keep being Amelia Towne, you're meandering, "And my grandfather and brothers of course, my father holds lodge for the tenants in our ballroom."

"There's an idea," Darcy thought aloud, "Many of my tenants are brothers, I may have to steal your father's idea, Miss Towne."

"He does this rather a lot," Bingley faux-whispered to Jane, "Talks about something obscure like people have any idea what he's saying. It gets quite dull, I suggest we leave him and take the next dance, what do you think of this idea Miss Bennet." He took her hand and led her to the floor.

"May I have the next dance with you Miss Towne?" Darcy bowed to me and offered his hand.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, I-I'm quite a terrible dancer and-"

"I understand completely, I simply want to speak with you more and that is the socially acceptable way." He led me instead to a settee at the edge of the room, I could feel Caroline Bingley's eyes burning holes in the back of my head, "I know that talking of Masonry in America must be dull to you."

"No, no, It's quite dear to me." I had wanted to be Amelia Towne because she was the daughter of a Mason like me, almost every childhood memory I have involved a Mason. It's probably why I love history, dressing up and talking like a pompous idiot. We talked about the influence of Masonry on the American Revolution and he told me about the royals in masonry, then we just started talking of history and then Shakespeare then literature then music. When we having a particularly interesting conversation of his study at Cambridge he mentioned Georgiana.

"Georgiana?" I question innocently, the quickest way to Darcy's character is through intelligent conversation and his baby sister.

"My little sister, about the same age as the youngest Bennet. Do you have any siblings Miss Towne?"

"Nine, Mr. Darcy, four brothers and five sisters I'm the sixth."

"That must get quite busy, are you close?" His eyes lit up when he spoke of family, in a way Austen had never described, in a way that reminded you he was and orphan that he had half of Derbyshire thrust upon him not just responsibility.

"Of course, especially my sisters Alice and Margaret I have to share a bed with them half the year." He raised an eyebrow and turned into the Darcy Lizzie describes, "Not that we don't have each our own bed, it just gets so frightfully cold that you could freeze to death without the warmth of another beside you even with ember boxes at the foot of the bed."

"Odd of me I almost entirely forgot you were from Massachusetts."

"To intelligent to be a colonist?" I mocked "Don't worry Mr. Darcy, I'd much rather be British than American."

"Than you were born just to late, Miss Towne."

"You may call Amelia, Miss Amelia if you must. Really my eldest sister is Miss Towne and I doubt you would like her."

"Why on Earth not, by your description all Towne should be loved wholeheartedly, why should this sister be so excluded."

"Because she is so included, more in love with herself than the world around her, Lydia and Kitty Bennet are not quite there, but I can see them become her if they aren't careful."

"I see why you ran halfway around the world, she sounds like Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley."

"Who sounds like me, dear Mr. Darcy?" Caroline Bingley stood peering over Darcy's shoulder she looked more like the 1995 Caroline, but with the same red hair as her brother.

"Miss Amelia's sister, quite the fashionable young lady apparently." Darcy put in for me, I'm glad he hates Caroline as much as everyone who has ever encountered her character always has.

"Well Mr. Darcy, the Bennets are leaving and they would like their house guest back, perhaps someone else may have a moment of your time now."

"Of course Miss Bingley, let me just return Amelia to her party." Darcy took my hand and all the sudden it was that seen in 2005 where he assists her into the carriage and an electric shock ran through their arms at the touch. But it was supposed to be her.

Mr. Darcy was supposed to spend the evening alone brooding in the corner and Lizzie was supposed to get a terrible first impression and hate him and the only time he said the words 'decent enough' was commentary on Shakespeare's botched portrayal of Richard III due to his support of the tudors. I had to stop, I had to get them together and forget about his fine eyes and more about Lizzie's. Stopping a foot away from the Bennets carriage Darcy pulled me aside.

"Good Evening Amelia, may I expect to see you again?" He was suppressing a smile and his eyes were bright as stars and I could not turn down the Fitzwilliam Darcy.

"Perhaps, thank you for saving me from embarrassment, Mr. Darcy."

"It was my pleasure, Amelia." With that I entered the carriage with a glare from Mrs. Bennet and questioning looks from the girls.

"How did you find Mr. Bingley?"

"Oh you should have seen it, Bingley danced with all of the girls and Jane twice. Oh so sensible, good-humored, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"

"And handsome." Lydia added, apparently money does help the appearance or I just don't like redheaded men. Upon arriving at Longbourne Mrs. Bennet gave Thomas the customary speech, 'No Lace! No Lace!', but she said nothing about Darcy, perhaps this will make this match easier to make or perhaps she still hates him and me as well for stealing Mr. Darcy tonight. Either way I would ignore him and focus on helping him and Lizzie get together, he may be every girl's dream, including mine, but he's Lizzie's reality and I can't mess up what Jane Austen thinks is right any more than I already have.


	4. Chapter 4

Lizzie and I retired to our shared room and she came down on me with the full praise of the Bingley party and even if I had messed up Darcy's introduction, Bingley did exactly as he should. He was wonderful and sweet especially to Jane, Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were so fashionable though Lizzie still thought they were a little snotty.

"Why didn't you dance, Amelia?" She turned to me

"Because I don't know how, dance really evolves in the 1900s so this is far out of my reach. I thought saying I wasn't good would be the easiest way to avoid it."

"How to people in 2013 dance then?" she held her knees to her chest and looked at me with joyous curiousity. This could be fun.

"If I teach you some 2013 dances will you teach me some 1812 dances?" I bargain

"Of course!" Lizzie seemed more excited to learn than most people who had seen the music videos were.

"Alright, but please never do this at a ball." She laughed, but seriously Gangnam Style isn't going to help her situation with Darcy. "Okay so for the first move spread your knees wide and bend deep at the knees, good, and just put your hands out like you're holding a bridle and them cross them. Now lift your arms up and down a little and sort of gallop with your feet." You never really think about how difficult something like this is if you can't just say 'I'll just show you the video'

"This is absolutely ubsurd!" She laughed, "All right, all right, now you must learn a reel, take my hands, this one is called The Village Maid." Lizzie grabbed my hands, and started pulling me around the bedroom in a manner I suppose can be thought of as sort of graceful

"The first couple set twice to the second woman, then circle with her, then they do the same but circle with the second man. The first couple leads down the middle and casts off into second place, then the second couple do the same. The first couple allemande turn right, then back left again and the second couple repeat this. One and a half Pousettes with the second couple and then you repeat."

"I think I'll just keep telling them I'm not good." I flopped down onto the bed, "There is no way I could possibly remember all of that."

"Please, Amelia, that's one of the easy ones." Lizzie pouted

"Ah, you are kidding me! No wonder we just switch to waltz." I burry my head in the pillow

"The waltz?" Looking up Lizzie was blushing like no tomorrow

"Oh yes, you people thought the waltz was racy and sensual, god what I would do to watch them at a modern high school dance, they'd have a hernia or a hard-on the moment they saw someone grinding."

"Grinding?" Lizzie sat down next to me on the bed

"You do not want to know, your mind is pure." I mean if she though a man holding her waist was scandalous, what would she think of a woman rubbing her ass against her partners genitals would be horrifying.

"I'll take your word for it," she laughed, little did she know, "Anyway you seemed quite enthralled with Mr. Darcy."

"Oh Lizzie, he would be perfect for you!" I took a bit of chance, "He's very intelligent and sweet and a real partner in a debate. He is so kind, he'll do absolutely anything for the people he loves."

"Perfect for me? Don't be ridiculous, he seemed absolutely enamoured with you." She grinned, "Jane and I were talking to Mr. Bingley, he said that Mr. Darcy never acts like that, that he's usually very reserved, what did you talk of you had his full attention for well over two hours."

"No, no, no, he's yours, I can tell already, I can already see the way he looks at you, the way he thinks of you. You are the next Mistress of Pemberley and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise."

"I suppose he is handsome." Lizzie considered

"Very," I took my opening, "And ten thousand pounds a year isn't exactly a horrible catch, he spoke many times of your fine eyes."

"I suppose he would make an excellent conquest, but I hate to aim to high only to be knocked down."

"You won't be, love, he is yours." I held her hand, squeezed tight and smiled, I would not lie to Elizabeth Bennet, he is hers.

We tucked into bed and curled up into the rough cotton sheets that rubbed against my rough cotton nightgown until it stung and the mattress that made you remember that 'don't let the bedbugs bite' was not always a cutesy phrase. It was insanely soft and plush in comparison to the stuff I have wash at Sturbridge, but we didn't actually expect anyone to sleep in them.

Another thing that I absolutely hated about Amanda Price's was how she whined about everything, I mean I've brushed my teeth with birch twigs and eaten sweetbreads, which are neither sweet or bread, but the boiled guts of a baby cow, It was part of history, you can never have the good without the bad. The fact that she was so blatantly ignorant made me despise her and the fact that Darcy loved such an ignorant moron made me despise the writer for their ignorance. Fitzwilliam Darcy does not want a silly wife, which is why Lizzie will always be perfect for him and this time I will make it go smoothly this time.


	5. Chapter 5

When I woke Lizzie had already risen and gone downstairs to breakfast, for the past two weeks she had been assisting me through the morning routine of a regency lady, now I suppose I was ready to do it on my own. As far as clothing was concerned the 1830s and the 1810s aren't to different, cotton stockings and stays, thin calf-length petticoat almost like a modern slip, a handkerchief around the neck (they called it a tucker) and a plain white dress with empire waist and puffed sleeves for the morning. My hair was pulled up into a loose bun, than would look a lot better with curly hair to be honest.

Makeup was small to nonexistent and I had always preferred to go natural, though it had taken three days to convince Lizzie that I didn't want my freckles powdered out. Luckily pale skin was very chic, for once I am considered attractive for beyond white Irish complexion! Price's main complaint was the tooth brushing, but I know they were on the right track and chalk tastes like nothing and nothing is a lot better than mint, at least in my mind.

Breakfast was mostly a bread based meal, today's fare was toast, a pastry called turtulong, seed cake, marmalade, jam, hot chocolate and tea. The first breakfast here I went for the tea which was a huge mistake, the British had yet to perfect tea and this stuff had the consistency of excitable child's urine. At breakfast Mrs. Bennet, whose name is sadly Fanny so I will continue to call her Mrs. Bennet because I can't say Fanny without giggling, would talk to Lydia and Kitty about the gossip of the day, Thomas would read his newspaper, Mary would read to herself from a book of psalms and Lizzie and I would talk among ourselves with Jane interjecting at times. This morning I came down to Jane reading from a letter that had Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty in raptures.

"Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever, Caroline Bingley." So the Netherfield arch begins

"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.

"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home."

"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs."

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?"

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them."

"But if you have got them today," Elizabeth said, "my mother's purpose will be answered."

The Netherfield arch has always been the quintessential Pride and Prejudice, from Mr. Darcy attempt at asking her to a Scottish reel, to the staring and brooding and judging, the accomplished women speech and Caroline's fuming. I will definitely try to go with Lizzie tomorrow when word is sent that Jane is sick.

It rained just as hard as Mrs. Bennet had predicted sitting at the window seat with Lizzie in Thomas' study I could picture Jane and a very, very angry, wet horse arriving at the Bingley's. Mrs. Bennet acted all day as if she had made it rain and thought she had created the most cunning plan in the history of cunning plans which was confirmed with the letter to Lizzie in at breakfast.

"Amelia, dear, listen to this," Lizzie breathed, "My Dearest Lizzie, I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones, therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me, and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me. Yours, etc."

"Oh, poor Jane, we should go and nurse her Lizzie. So she isn't alone." Sturbridge made me take one acting class and I was very indebted to it just now.

"A capital idea, we shall walk to Netherfield after breakfast." she looked over at me knowingly, "Perhaps you will see more of Mr. Darcy."

Lydia and Kitty accompanied us for the first half of walk before heading towards Meryton for this scene 1995 did a better job showing her, now us, crossing field after field fences and puddles with the odd sprint at times until we finally saw the house with a muddy dress and fine eyes brightened by the exercise.  
We were shown to the breakfast-parlor where all but Jane were gathered which seemed to add a bit of shock and adventure to their morning meal. Caroline and Louisa sized us up glaring at our muddy dresses and stockings, both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy both rose to greet us and escort us to Jane and our guest rooms while Mr. Hurst stayed at the table and drank more port.

According to Bingley Jane had gone to bed unwell and woke up this morning very feverish.  
Lizzie and I tended to Jane near silently until after breakfast when Caroline and Louisa joined us, they were both sickly sweet to Lizzie while Caroline clearly detested me and Louisa followed suit. By three o'clock we were staying at Netherfield indefinitely.


	6. Chapter 6

At five o' clock we were both sent to our separate guest rooms to change for dinner, so I would be getting dressed for a reasonably formal occasion without Lizzie. These are the times that made me wish I had wifi so I could just google it, but a iphone in 19th century Britain was proving itself to be a little useless. Our clothes had yet to arrive from Longbourne so my clothes for dinner were lent to me by Caroline, Lizzie's from Louisa, I suppose giving me clothes that would only look well on a soulless ginger such as herself was her idea of sabotage, but I have a trump card. Irish complexion! I believe Americans aren't allowed to call themselves Irish if the don't look good in green.

The best I could find in Caroline's things was a layered light green dress, the under layer is a soft light green muslin and the top a shear fabric embroidered with white flowers. Besides that I found a pair of white kid gloves, a pair of green slippers (of the dancing variety rather than the bunny) and a length of ribbon that I used as a make shift headband. I was joined by Lizzie on my walk to the parlor dinner (or supper I'm not entirely sure) was being served in, she had dressed in a reddish-pink gown with a golden belt that lifts the bottom of the skirt to about the knee showing a white muslin dress underneath.

Dinner's at Longbourne had been simple affairs beef, Yorkshire pudding, sweetbreads (which were neither sweet nor breads, but the innards of a baby cow) and pudding (British dessert not jello brand). I knew that Bingley would show off his wealth through elaborate dishes as has always been custom, I didn't know what would be on that table but I was thanking the lord that my lace-curtain grandmother had taught me proper table etiquette. When we arrived the first course had already arrived, on the table was some type of fish, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, spinach, some kind of gravy and two varieties of alcohol. This was absolutely no problem, I like beef, I like fish, the gravy tasted like pickles, the pudding had the consistency of rubber and I don't drink, but I stomached it.

Second course was a slaughter of the innocents, we had dismember bunny as well as potted Bambi, asparagus, a sort of red pancake-cracker, trifle (which at this point was just whipped cream with flowers) and two more varieties of alcohol. I ate a bunny, I'm sad now, I don't want to talk about it.

After what was confirmed to be dinner, supper is at ten, Lizzie went back to Jane and I was invited to retire with the party to the drawing room, where Mr. Hurst, Mr. Bingley, Caroline and Louisa took up cards, Darcy started writing his letter to Georgiana and I took up a book. Finding a book was rather hard as almost all of the classics were written post regency, there was no Austen, Bronte, Dickens, Conan-Doyle, Huxley or Green, I eventually settled for a romanticization of Queen Boudicca of the Iccini.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" Mr. Hurst looked over at me when I opened the book "that is rather singular."

"Miss Towne," said Caroline, "despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I find pleasure in many other things, Miss Bingley."

"I have only ever seen you read and you don't dance, so pray tell what do you do?"

"I do read, write, paint, draw, play violin and I don't like to brag, but I am quite the opponent at shuttlecock." Only Mr. Bingley laughed at this, but Darcy looked over at me with a smirk.

"She is almost your accomplished woman, Darcy, you may have to change your count to seven." Bingley chuckled, I could get some Lizzie serious wingmanning in here.

"I doubt it," Caroline scoffed, "She only speaks English and cannot dance or sing."

"On the contrary I speak French fluently, a small amount of Russian and Gaelic and I can read and write in Latin and though I admittedly can't dance or sing well, I doubt Mr. Darcy would need another singer at Pemberley as his sister is the reincarnation of Euterpe." I retorted, "But all of this is null and void, Mr. Darcy will have to change his count, for Lizzie who does all I can, but better and is an actual great reader."

"Perhaps she could prove this if she left her sister's side for more than a meal."

"There is a type of love and caring only a sister can provide, the fact that the Bennet girls show this love so openly as they do is admirable and wonderful. Don't you think Mr. Darcy."

"Quite, had it been me I would pray that Georgiana would take as good care of me as Miss Elizabeth takes of Miss Bennet." He stared at me, I slight smile on his lips, in modern terms he was totally into her.

"Right, I believe it is time for supper." Caroline stood from her game and lead us all back to dining-parlor for the kind of light meal that your would want right before bed. Supper consisted of cold roast beef, sweetbreads, apple pie, cheese on toast (I have no idea why, don't ask), stewed celery and miracle of miracles two more varieties of alcohol. After supper we all returned to our rooms for the night and I experience the most horrid thing to happen in the regency, a burp laced with the flavours of a cows pancreas and bunny.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning was a Sunday, the day Sturbridge was closed and I slept in, the Bennet's seemed to have no problem with this, but today I was awoken at seven sharp by the sound of a knock at my door.

"Miss Amelia," It was Mr. Darcy, "Breakfast is being served and then we are leaving for Meryton."

"I'll be out in just a minute." It didn't seem like it was time to meet Mr. Wickham yet, but this could be it and I will be ready. Today I dressed in one of Lizzie's gowns that reminded me of Emma Dashwood, a blue frock over a rather puffy button-down. When I went to go down stairs Mr. Darcy was still waiting for me and offered an arm to lead me down to the breakfast parlor.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night about loving to paint and draw," He spoke slowly and steadily as if he had thought over his request word by word, knowing his character he probably did. "And I was wondering if perhaps you might do a portrait for me, perhaps of Miss Elizabeth? I mean if it isn't to much trouble of course."

"Of course it isn't Mr. Darcy, though I am not sure if I could do any favours for her fine eyes. I feel a bit odd with you calling me Amelia and me still calling you Mr. Darcy, what is your christian name?"

"Ah, I-it's my Mother's maiden name."

"Oh, a lot of pain can come from that tradition. If I can tell you the name of someone who has the same problem to a worse extent will you tell your name?" he nodded, "How much do you know of the adventures of Lewis & Clark?"

"Nothing I'm afraid." He smiled down at me, he was remarkably tall

"They are two explorers hired by President Jefferson to explore and map the Louisiana Purchase, I was headed by William Clark and your opponent Meriwether Lewis."

"I must admit that mine is not that bad, Fitzwilliam James Alexander Darcy at your service Miss Towne."

"May I call you William then?"

"I'd like that." We reached the breakfast-parlor, where everyone but Jane sat surrounded by an assortment of pastries and hot chocolate. Both Caroline and Louisa looked positively shocked when I walked in, probably didn't like that Darcy had escorted me.

"Miss. Towne, you're wearing that to church." Louisa scoffed in my general direction and Caroline looked me judging up and down. They were all Protestant. The were all Anglican.

"Oh, I don't think I can go today, someone has to stay with Jane." I lied, Caroline saw through.

"I'm sure she'll understand you need time to worship, you can pray for her speedy recovery." She smiled sickly sweet.

"I really can't go, I'm not sure I'm even allowed to go."

"Of course you can, you were christened were you not?" Bingley chuckled

"Baptized actually." I flushed and looked down at my feet, anxious for their reaction, I didn't want everything to go to waste over something I care as little about as religion.

"You are Catholic." Darcy sighed, "Your family is French?"

"Irish." I stammered, "I hope this doesn't cloud your opinion of me."

"Of course it does!" Caroline shouted, Louisa looked the colour of a tomato "Charles, make her leave I don't want some heathen Catholic disgracing my home!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Caroline." William placed his hand on the small of my back as if to support me, he's defending me, maybe I have a new buddy "My Aunt Madeline Fitzwilliam is Scottish and as Catholic as the pope, I think the variety and honesty shown in Amelia is admirable. She will stay and tend to Miss Bennet while we go to church and you will treat her as the honest Christian woman that she is."

"Bravo, old chap," Bingley applauded, "You cannot possibly consider dear Lady Matlock a heathen can you?"

About half an hour after the kerfuffle they left for the church in Meryton and I went to check on Jane still asleep and sweating she looked as if her fever was at it's height, it would break tonight or tomorrow. I sat next to her, read aloud and talked and replaced the wet rag on her forehead, I kind of wish I could just give her ibuprofen and be done with it. I'm not sure whether Catholicism or modernism had distorted my view of the length of a decent Mass, but they weren't actually there long. A good Catholic (American and 1830s) mass lasted almost all day with a small break for lunch, they were gone for barely three hours? I was informed of their return first by the lady's maid assigned to Lizzie and me, Margaret, (Speaking of Margaret that's one thing I don't like about Austen's writing, she seems to find first names useless and/or improper so I will be telling you everyone's name, Mr. Hurst's is Bamber, Bamber Hurst, I am not joking.) and second by a now somewhat familiar four-tap knock at Jane's door.

"You can come in, William." I was slightly worried about this meeting, I mean he said he didn't care, but anyone who's read the books knows he's not exactly forthcoming with his true emotions. At this point in history England is at war with one of the most Catholic countries in Europe, he could have had family or friends who died in that war. Either way I would handle this calm, cool and collected.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I don't whether he was sad or scared, my emotion recognition systems weren't exactly firing on all cylinders, but they noticed that calm, cool and collected were out the window.

"Because it doesn't matter, it literally has no meaning." I stood up to face him, crossing my arms across my chest. "The only reason a Catholic would bother you was because the French are Catholics and I'm not French. The idea of an Orthodox wouldn't bother you because neither the Russians nor the Greeks have done nothing to you, but because I read from the same book as Napoleon I'm lesser. Religion is a reaction to revelation and the fact that we call ourselves the same thing doesn't mean he and I have the same reaction. By reading the same words we can be find different emotions by it and even different information, so it honestly does not matter."

"Yes, well...thank you." Ah shit, I've broken him, he hurried out the door and I didn't see him for the rest of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day was a celebration of Jane's almost complete recovery, she joined us for supper and the holy terror of socializing that followed. Caroline started us of with some piano, nothing I recognized, but apparently it was a classic, then Jane played and then Lizzie. For constantly bringing up how lacking her skills were at piano, Lizzie was very good pianist and singer and she had Darcy's full attention unlike Jane or Caroline. I thought it was going to be a lovely afternoon until Lizzie finished and Caroline used my stage fright against me.

"Miss Towne I believe It's time to see what pianoforte skills the new world has to offer."

"Caroline, don't be ridiculous she said only yesterday that she was apt on the violin." Bingley interrupted, a footman was called who ran to fetch a violin, from wherever regency gentleman kept their spare violins. "Something other than pianoforte will be refreshing."

"Yes, of course Charles, perhaps she could play some sort of drinking song." She flicked her eyebrows up in a way that made me really, really, want to punch her.

"Perhaps I shall." The violin was brought in, it was a beautiful Stradivarius that made my little Sherlockian heart go pitter-pat. It seemed to already be perfectly tuned, but I tested it carefully not wanting to embarrass myself in front of my favourite characters.

Just to annoy Caroline I played a classic, bouncy, Irish drinking song/reel called The Star of the County Down, she turned bright red when I finished and her family and her 'future husband' applauded. Next I played a more serious still Irish piece that I sang with called the Parting Glass and running out of options of acceptable songs for 1812 I play something from the BBC Sherlock that I believe is called Welcome to London, anyway it seemed to go over well. It was a reasonable performance, but considering all Miss Price could pull out of her ass was Downtown by Petula Clark made me very proud of my attempt.

"Brilliant, Miss Towne," Bingley applauded, "Capital, absolutely capital."

"Very well done, Amelia." Darcy gave a small smirk, at least we were still on first name terms after I bitched him out yesterday.

"William, if I were to play another reel could dance with Miss Elizabeth for me? I'm afraid I stole you at our first ball and she never got to dance with you, perhaps Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley could dance as well."

"It would be my pleasure." He turned and took Lizzie's hand who flashed me a slightly judgmental glance as Jane and Charles stood to join them and I struck up a quick reel called Marie's Wedding. By the end of the almost four minute dance everyone was laughing, except of course the Bingley ladies who don't laugh at anything other than someone else's strife.

"That was absolutely lovely Amelia." Jane chuckled sitting back down a little out of breath.

"Caroline," Bingley seemed to remember something, "You may have a dance partner soon, Colonel Fitzwilliam's regiment is coming home on leave and I thought any family of Darcy's has a home under my roof, so he'll be staying here at Netherfield."

"I don't believe I've met the Colonel." Caroline sighed somewhere between bored and aggravated

"Oh you'll like Richard, everyone does," William smirked, "He's quite the amiable man, lending himself to whoever he meets and is almost overly optimistic. But a good man who takes care of those he loves, I am very lucky to have him in a cousin."

"Is their anyone else of merit in this regiment?" It's not as if I can out right ask 'hey is that douche-bag who all but raped your baby sister coming? I'd really like to meet him.' I don't think he'll actually, willingly bring up Wickham, but I may be able to get something out of him.

"It is a Derbyshire regiment so a lot of the boys from Pemberley and the surrounding towns are in it. Some acquaintances, but no one I currently associate with, though it would be nice to throw the Derbyshire boys a ball, if Charles doesn't mind that is."

"Of course, old boy, though it's odd to see so enthused with a party."

"These men serve Pemberley and Derbyshire and England herself this is one way to honour and celebrate them. Usually Georgiana would spearhead such things though a Master of the house can do very little well without the Lady at his side he must at least try."

"Well then, we must throw a ball dear Georgiana would be proud of." Caroline grinned at the entrance of the Longbourne driver to the drawing room, "Though I do believe that our guest's carriage has arrived."

"Yes ma'am," the driver bowed, "Their bags have been loaded in and we are ready whenever the ladies are."

"Well I believe the ladies are absolutely dying to see their home again. Are you not?" Caroline smiled, "We must ascort them out and let them be on their way and they'll be home in time for supper."

After that we were all but dragged out of Netherfield, Jane was helped into the carriage by Mr. Bingley, I like the odd American I was managed to get in all by myself and Lizzie was helped in by Darcy. I swear that shock happen when he touched her hand it really did and I could see a small smile on his face when he turned to go back to the house.

We were welcomed back with open arms by everyone except Mrs. Bennet who had hoped Jane would come back engaged. They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough-bass and human nature; and had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married and we had a guest for supper, a Rev. William Collins.


	9. Chapter 9

There are literally no words to Mr. Collins, a lot of syllables left his mouth, but he didn't very often say anything. He took the bible literally word for word, which even Mary isn't sheep enough to do and that's saying something. He is not short or pasty and his hair is pitch and greasy, he's actually not that bad looking, but I suppose intelligence and personality reflected largely on how she represented her characters looks. He was almost Aryan in his appearance, light blonde hair, fair skin and grey eyes, like some sort of poorly matured cherub.

He shoved all his attention at Jane until Mrs. Bennet pulled him aside and he moved down to Lizzie, now it was my turn. The first time I read the book and all I knew happened was Lizzie and Darcy got together I was entirely certain that Mr. Collins would marry Mary Bennet, both of them so similar in their faults it seems like something Austen would write and a much better match than Mr. Collins and Charlotte. The next morning after a small breakfast I suggested a walk about the grounds so the Bennets may have some time away from him and I may have some time to plant my idea.

"Mr. Collins?" I wandered up to the bench on which he was reading some church-related book as he always seemed to be.

"Ah, Miss Towne, how may I be of service to such a dear friend of the family." He smiled up at me, the same off-putting 1995 Mr. Collins had.

"I have noticed your design in coming to Longbourne and though I support the idea of you marrying a Bennet so they estate may stay in their possession I was wondering if you had settled upon which Bennet and if so if you could tell me?"

"Off course I did not wish it to appear so obviously, but you cannot be blamed for a correct deduction. At first I had thought of the eldest Miss Bennet, until her mother informed me of her likely proposal and now I am focusing on Miss Elizabeth."

"Oh, Elizabeth." I mock surprise in my best 'swooning regency lady style'

"Do you think she is not suitable?" He would be anxious about this! The Lady Catherine De Bourgh sent him here specifically to find a wife.

"She is an excellent woman, but I always thought that Mary would be the quintessential parson's wife," I think using big words might help, he probably gets his language for her Ladyship anyway, "She's lovely, intelligent, charitable, insightful, joyful in Christ yet prudent in life. I thought you would turn your attention to her."

"Perhaps I shall, good day Miss Towne."

"Good day Mr. Collins." He went straight to Mary, Charlotte was saved from a marriage with a man she could not love.  
Upon returning to Longbourne it was announced several times at several levels of deafening that we had received a personal invitation from Bingley to the Military Ball and would I go with the girls to Meryton to get ribbons or some such thing. Taking the Bennet sisters to Meryton, especially the youngest two, was like chaperoning a special school on a day out, but I had a feeling it was time to meet Mr. Wickham and I was not letting Lydia do this alone. Mr. Collins joined us on our walk and talked religion and ethics with Mary the whole way, Kitty and Lydia talked of ribbons and fashion and for most of the journey Lizzie, Jane and I stayed silent.

"Amelia," Lydia ran up to me, "You must get something in blue, I here it's Mr. Darcy favourite colour, he is always wearing it and it looks so fine on him, perhaps you would match at the ball, it would be so romantic."

"Why should I match him, when he certainly cannot marry an American and wouldn't if he could, for I believe he quite admires Lizzie."

"But he always talks to you first."

"If by always you mean once and that was only because he had a duty too." I said twirling the charm hung around my neck

"Then we will have to buy Lizzie the most splendid blue she has ever seen." She smiled and sprinted back to Kitty's side. Over the course of the book people tend to find Lydia to be more and more of a horrible, ridiculous, almost slutty person and I think it's because we tend to forget that she's fifteen. The worst part is the people who say that it's her fault that Wickham, who is at least twelve years older than Lydia, was able to take advantage of her, she was a child and she trusted him.

Upon entering town the two youngest girls ran up to two men, both in uniform, a Mr. Denny and a Captain Carter and a third man they were introduced to. You could smell the bastard from a mile away, it was him and he was smoking hot. Personally I don't really like blond men, but he pulled it off perfectly, he had the same deep blue eyes as William and a smile that invited you to come closer.

"Young ladies," Captain Carter bowed, "This is my friend Mr. Wickham."

"A pleasure."


	10. Chapter 10

"The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Wickham," Lydia blushed, "I'm Lydia Bennet and these are my sisters Jane, Lizzie, Mary and Kitty, my cousin Mr. Collins and our house guest Miss Towne."

You know that feeling when you are so angry it feels like heat is radiating of your body from shear fury. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and knee him in the balls so he would never be able to hurt anyone ever again. William and Bingley needed to hurry up or I would make the same mistake as Amanda Price by showing "unladylike fury" and then what would I do with myself. Catching sight of three horses coming from the end of the road let me breathe, but the one coming directly towards us was neither William nor Bingley, but a man with dark features, almost like Darcy, but tanned with deep brown eyes.

"Carter, Denny, we need you back at camp." The stranger ordered strength and authority in his voice, hot, high-ranking and military, I'm surprised Kitty and Lydia didn't faint.

"Aye sir." Carter saluted and the two men scurried for their encampment.

"And Wickham, you were under strict orders to leave the natives alone."

"You cannot give me orders Fitzwilliam, strict or otherwise, you are not my commanding officer."

"Fitzwilliam?" I realized, "You're Colonel Fitzwilliam? William's cousin?"

"Well, yes," He looked at me a little surprised as did Wickham, "Though I must say you are one of the five people outside of the family who have ever called him William."

"Richard, must you go ahead like that you'll give Charles' horse a sprain forcing it that fast. Ah, Miss Towne, Miss Bennets," Darcy scanned the people amassed around his cousin his eyes landing last on the scar of the group. "Mr. Wickham."

"Mr. Darcy." Austen described this greeting saying 'Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red.' that's one way of putting it Jane, that's one way of putting it. Everything about William turned red with anger, his eyes his face, all except his knuckles, ghostly white, gripping his horse's reins so tight I thought it would snap. Wickham turned so pale you could almost see through him.

"Well, I should return to camp, ladies, Mr. Collins." He tipped his hat and controlled himself just enough to not run from the scene.

"And we should be getting back to our shopping," Jane curtsied, "Gentleman."

"Wasn't Mr. Wickham, absolutely splendid?" Lydia crooned, screeching in excitement.

"I quite preferred the Colonel." Lizzie smiled, I had to tell them about Wickham, I could tell them Darcy told me, they'd never know.

"As you should, Wickham is complete rat." I sneered, "Darcy's father took him in when he was orphaned and promised him a career in the church and a allowance if he studied, when the late Mr. Darcy died he was given the allowance and didn't study, he came back after the money was gone and asked for more, William refused him and he didn't hear from him again until last Summer when he tried to elope with William's young sister to gain her inheritance."

"Are you absolutely certain?" Jane looked shocked, she never liked to think anyone was a truly bad person and this was challenging that virtue.

"I heard it from Darcy himself." I did, he blatantly described it in chapter thirty-five.

"And you believe him?" Lydia scowled, I will get her away from him if it is the last thing I do.

"Of course, William is a good man. Please stay away from him, you girls have become like sisters to me, I can't bare to see any of you harmed by that blackguard."

"Of course Amelia." Jane smiled and Lizzie and Mary nodded in agreement, Kitty looked to Lydia for approval, this could go poorly.

"Are you sure you don't want that blue, Amelia?"


	11. Chapter 11

Wickham or Dickham as I have started to refer to him mentally hadn't talked to any of the girls, it has been four days and he has yet to preach his bullshit to any of my...the Bennets. Tonight was the Netherfield ball and I will get Lizzie and Darcy together tonight, I know I will. Lizzie was looking absolutely gorgeous in the blue dress that Lydia had convinced her to make, Jane pretty in pink and Mary comply head over heals for Mr. Collins and he in return, all was well. It was starting to bother me, things were going too well, Austen never let things get this good until the end and we were no where near the end.  
On the carriage ride to Netherfield the "chaperone of a special school on a day out" feeling came back. Tonight is where Darcy's bad opinion of the Bennets comes from I had to make sure Lydia, Kitty, Mary, Thomas and especially Mrs. Bennet under control. We were greeted at the door by Caroline Bingley playing hostess.

"Miss Bennets, Miss Towne we're so glad you could come."

I yet again avoid dancing with grace and Darcy went between talking to me to dancing mostly with Lizzie, one or two with Caroline and some with women I don't know. I spent most of the night with Charlotte who was blissfully unaware of Mr. Collins and had attracted the attention of one the military men, a Captain Reynolds. Every word she said every glance she shared with Reynolds made me more and more glad that I had steered Collins toward Mary. As a dance was about to begin, all the Bennet girls and Miss Lucas taken Darcy approached me.

"Miss Towne, Amelia, would you like to leave the crowds? For the library perhaps, just to talk...as we did at the first ball." He was remarkably shy, I knew it was part of his character, but I had never seen it so upfront.

"Of course I would." I took his arm and he led me out of the ballroom

"You look lovely tonight." William stammered, something was up and I had this sinking feeling in my stomach.

"It's one of Lizzie's dresses, I didn't come prepared for such an occasion." I let go of his arm to open the double doors to the library, he followed very close behind me, I walked as fast as I could towards the shelf containing histories and made a show of just normally picking a book. What if I had messed it up, what if I pulled a complete Emma? I had to make this right.

"William." He looked at me and I realized I had no way to finish the sentence I had tried to begin. His pupils were slightly larger than the should be in the warm light of the library, but I didn't have much time to dwell on this as I found myself in a difficult situation. Mr. Darcy, the Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, was kissing me. He only touched my shoulder to pull me just close enough, it was soft and chaste just a touch of his lips against mine and he pulled away and looked right into my eyes.

"B-but, you an-and Lizzie?" I was crying, why was I crying, nothing gets accomplished by crying.

"Why would I care for Lizzie? and even if I didn't I couldn't possibly go after a woman my cousin was so enamored with. You saw her at Richard's side dance after dance." He caressed my cheek and I leaned in, I already ruined Jane Austen why not be a glutton too? His arm slid around my waist and the other into my hair, I wrapped my arms around his neck trying to compensate for our foot height difference. It was still soft and rather chaste but wet at the same time and sweet with the smooth taste of his lips. I could have stood there forever, I might have even forgotten all the wrong I had done until a slow, steady clap resinated from the doorway.

"Well done _William_." Wickham... "I'm glad you've picked a wife so informed of the family shame. So much less shock will be involved."

"You stay away from her!" William growled, oh god, "What on Earth are you talking about."

"Did you not know of Miss Towne's knowledge of recent _events_?"

"Of course she has no knowledge of it, I have yet to tell her." Oh, god what have I done

"Then why did Miss Lydia Bennet ask me to deny my involvement with dear Georgiana?" William prickled at the mention of his sister from the monster, "Oh hush Darcy, she assured me that Miss Towne had been most insistent. I, of course, denied it if only to keep Miss Darcy's secret a secret, but dear Lizzie Bennet had to have her say, she has quite a mouth on her. The whole ballroom heard her accusations, it may only be a rumor, but you know how rumors can spread. I thought you should be told of it and from whose mouth this disgusting rumor came I had no idea that you would be attached to it."

"Amelia," William turned to me, I was frozen, I had done this, "Amelia, he's lying, tell me he's lying."

"I-I'm sorry, William I only told them, just the Bennet girl, so they might be safe from him." His face turned cold and stony, into the proud, emotionless man Austen had described so many times. "William, please you have to believe me, I never meant for this to happen."

Thomas appeared at the door and pulled me away from all of this, before I knew it we were back at Longbourne all, but Lydia and Kitty who stayed for more of the ball, probably just to watch it disintegrate. I told them I was taking a walk around the grounds, but I needed to get to the barn, I needed to get back home, grab my copy of Pride & Prejudice. Hell, it might explode if anyone here touches it, but it will give me proof and I won't be able to fix everything, but maybe I could fix a few things.


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning I woke in that same rickety bed I had been sharing with Lizzie for almost two months now, clutching to my chest my copy of Pride and Prejudice. It was decorated by a beautiful pink watercolor and "you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." scrolled on the back in need cursive, but most importantly it held the story I knew and two copyright dates for a year from now and two hundred years from now. Lizzie was still sleeping soundly next to me when Jane ran into the room in a panic.

"Lizzie, they've run away!" She cried holding a folded piece of paper in her grasp, "Lydia and Kitty they've gone off with Wickham and one of his friends, that Denny man."

"Oh god, what will we do? Do Mama and Papa know?"

"I have no idea and yes."

"Go to Netherfield, Colonel Fitzwilliam will help you and I need to speak with Wil...with Darcy." Why did it hurt like this, I've never hurt like this.

"He went back to Derbyshire last night, right after we left." I feel like crying and falling back down onto the bed, but I need to keep a stiff upper lip and move on.

"Then I have quite a letter to write," It worked for William, maybe it'll work for me, "You should go see the Colonel."

I sat on the bed while Lizzie and Jane scurried around getting ready for Netherfield, it was good to gather my thoughts though. I wrapped up my book in brown paper and found a sheet for my letter, sitting at Lizzie's boudoir and settled down to write.

My Dear William or Georgiana,  
I cannot pretend to know which of you will pick this letter up first. If Georgiana some background will be necessary, my name is Amelia Towne and I am the reason that horrible rumor about you was spread, you have to know that the rumor was not my intention. I told my friends, the Bennet girls whom I am staying with, of your misfortune as to protect them from Mr. Wickham, I had no idea that the two youngest would be so cruel with this information. The two youngest took it to be a lie and have ran off with Wickham and Denny and I really, really need William's help to bring them home.  
With this letter I have attached a book, which was given to me last year for my birthday, it is the most stunning copy of Pride and Prejudice that I have ever seen. If you could stop reading my letter now and read a section or two from the book, specifically the chapter beginning on page 207 and then the same on 385 and hopefully you will understand at least some of my actions.  
I was given this book almost two hundred years from today, I was born in Quincy, Massachusetts 1992 and my parents in 1966 and 1967. Lizzie appeared in my place of work and I always felt out of place in my time so I followed her, I shouldn't have, I've messed up everything. In my time this book has, for the last hundred years at least, defined what women look for in men, all of us wanting are own Mr. Darcy. Of course I am one of these women but who am I to step in the middle of a beautifully happy two hundred year old marriage. I'm sorry, I do love you _ardently_, I will go home in a week if I here no reply. God bless.  
-Amelia Towne

Walking down stairs in my morning dress at one in the afternoon the house was silent and empty  
besides Thomas sitting quietly in his study. In the book he had blamed himself so much for what happened to Lydia and now that both girls were gone and it was all my fault.

"Thomas?" His eyes seem red and dark when he looked up at me, "I-i need to send a package can you help, I'm not entirely sure how."

"Of course Amelia," He stands up clutching the arms of his chair, his bones suddenly weaker, his body aged ten years in a single night, "Where is it going? I'll take it down to the post, I could use some fresh air."

"Pemberley in Derbyshire, I don't know any direction besides that."

"I could probably just write Mr. Darcy's name on the top and it would get there." He patted my shoulder and hugged me, taking the package, "I'm sorry about what happened last night."

"So am I."

Later in the day a letter arrived from Lizzie at Netherfield, apparently 'dear Richard' suspected they had gone to Brighton and had alerted a friend based there, a Colonel Brandon, and that he and Captain Carter would go down there as soon as they heard back from him. She finished saying that she and Jane would be spending the night at Netherfield and should be back by noontime tomorrow.


End file.
